Innnocence
by RomyLove
Summary: She wasn't that innocent. Tick, Tick, Tick,
1. Chapter 1

**Innocence**

**Prologue**

It had not started of like this, it really hadn't. It originated as messing around with ropes, for a few laughs. Then, it became serious. Deadly. An obsession.

Tick, Tick, Tick.

Death, Death, Death.

Murderer, Murderer, Murderer.

That's what she was, a murderer. It accounted for her own, to see other people go throw it. For them to know how she felt.

Her, Christine Daae.

Tick, Tick, Tick.

Death, Death, Death.

Murderer, Murderer, Murderer.

A/N: I know this is VERY short, but this is just for me to get started on. It WILL get longer, so don't worry.

-RomyLove


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

Christine smiled a she read the note again. And again. And again. And again. She ran her hands over the parchment, and smelled its scent, suddenly engulfed by the smell of man. It was the break in dance practice, and the note was the only thing she could think of. She had received the note at 1 O'clock in the morning. It slid through her door, and a knock was heard. Christine opened the door, but no one was seen. Her dainty pink fingernails traced the words. The note read:

_Christine,_

_Meet me at the usual place. Usual time._

_Yours,_

_J._

_Xx_

Christine's grin widened greatly. She glanced up at the clock upon the wall. It would be 3 O'clock in 15 minutes, which was the time they met usually. Christine looked about herself. Madame Giry would not notice her leaving., she was too busy fussing over her daughter and Christine's best friend Meg.

Slowly, she backed up towards the door, twisted the door knob and pulled the door open. Christine darted out, then shut the door behind her, quietly.

Christine broke out at a sprint, her ballet shoes padding on the marble floor. Being as fast as possible, she walked into her and Meg's dressing room. She walked over to the wardrobe, and opened the doors to it. She picked out a deep emerald dress, smiling at her choice.

Then, she stripped herself of clothes apart from her undergarments and stepped into the dress. She looked in the mirror beside the wardrobe. She pouted proudly, and then walked out of the room. At a fairly fast pace, she walked up the stairs.

The stairs lead to were the stage hands would sit, pulling ropes to reveal sets, or lower things needed for the act. Christine looked around. Seeing the place empty, she called "Jean-Luc?" Open hearing no answer, she sat in a chair, the skirt of her dress spread out gracefully. Christine was leaning her head upon her hand when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She grinned to herself, and turned around to see Jean-Luc, one of the stage-hands.

"Jean," she said, passionately, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. Her tongue wrestled against his, and she moaned into the kiss. Yes, she was his lover. Christine had not even told Meg of this. If any of the girls knew of this, she was sure to be kicked out of the Opera House. Girls should not associate with boys. It was the rules whilst a show was being put on. "What have you called me hear for?" he asked, sitting back down on the chair.

"You will see, _Mon Cheri_, you will see," the man said. Christine looked at him. He was too beautiful to be a stage hand. He jaw was chiselled, and strong, his lips full, yet thin. His eyes were a deep, deep, brown. His hair was almost the exact same colour, combed back. He stood at a tall height. 6 foot something.

Christine pouted, like a little puppy dog not getting what it wanted. "Please?" he said, her eyelashes batting at him playfully. "Please, Jean, pretty please?"

Jean-Luc looked at her, his eyes penetrating and narrowed. "No," he said. Jean-Luc knew his power over Christine. He knew she would cower from him if he wanted her to. She was too submissive to his attention, what she believed as affection.

Christine lowered her eyelids out of fear and disappointment. "Well, what's the point in my being here then?" she questioned. Shaking her head gently, she got up, out of the chair. But before she could take another step forwards, Jean-Luc held her back with him strong arm.

"I needed to ask you a question," he said, his face sullen and stricken. _She_ was about to walk out on _him. _He who was all she had. After all the trouble he had been put through with her, stupid little bitch she was. But he was what she needed, and he couldn't loose her if the plan was to work. So, he put on a fake smile. "My darling, you have not told anyone about us, have you?"

"No," Christine said, melting at his smile. "No, dearest, I have not. I have been a good little girl and been quit, like you told me to be," she said, seductively. This did make him smile. Not at her obeying him, but the way he could control her, and the way she forced himself at her.

"Good," he said, nodding. "You may go now," he said, kissing her on the cheek. Christine did not seem satisfied with just a kiss on the cheek, but left without asking, anyway. She knew she would not get a proper kiss.

After he watched her go, Jean-Luc sat down in his chair. "It's all going to plan," he said, his hands falling on top of his stomach, moving up and down as he chuckled to himself, and then fell asleep.

A/N: Obviously, this is longer, but still not as long as it will be. Thank you too my 2 reviewers, **Hot4Gerry** and **erik's-white-rose ** and to all the rest of you that reviewed.


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